Summary: S2AU. After arriving in Sunnydale to find Angel with a soul and dating the slayer, Druscilla gets the idea that she can make her 'daddy' care for her again by being like them... Insanity follows.

Author's Note: I had originally intended this to be a full-sized story, but never could get it fleshed out properly. I found it while reviewing my 'put aside for later' folder and ended up deciding to simply post it as a series of scenes from an alternate universe. My apologies to anyone who is bothered by the disjointed nature of it all...

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns Buffy and all associated characters and situations, I'm merely using them for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

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"The Wanna-Be Slayer"
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

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"While informative on so many levels, Angel," Buffy tapped her stake against her thigh, "That still doesn't explain why one of Angelus' Childer was calling me her 'Mommy' and hugging me."

"Oh, I can answer that for you both," Spike announced, stepping into the room, "You see, after Peaches here did his little disappearing act a hundred years ago, Dru got it into her head that Daddy didn't love her anymore... Now that he's pulled a bad penny and turned up again in the company of a Slayer, Dru's decided that since the Poofter's so taken with you, the best way to get back in his affections is to join in the fun. Funny, that, isn't it?"

"Yeah, you could call it 'Funny'," Buffy replied, "Not 'Funny ha-ha' or even 'Funny-peculiar', though. More like 'Funny-that fish tasted funny-oh no, I've been poisoned'."

"Me, personally, I'd prefer to go for the full hat trick on killing Slayers, but if it makes Dru happy..." Spike shrugged, "Bad things happen to people when Dru's not happy - myself included, Slayer - and I'd prefer my unlife to last a bit longer."

"And the reason I shouldn't dust you both is?"

"You're secretly finding all this amusing and a subtle revenge on Angelus there for not telling you any of it."

"It's Angel." the aforementioned two-hundred year old vampire snarled at Spike.

Spike snorted, "Please, like we don't bloody know the whole point of calling yourself that is so that when people say it, you forget for a moment that vampires like us are demons possessing dead bodies; angels and demons being as far apart as one can get... 'cept there's just one problem with that; like the poet wrote, demons are just angels that were forced out of heaven."

"Well, this is surprising," Buffy remarked, "You don't seem like the poetry type."

"Not what he considers poetry anyway," Spike jerked his thumb at Angel, "He reads that sappy love stuff - Browning or whatever her name is. Me, I'll stick with good old Milton and Tennyson, thank you."

"Who, like Milton Berle?"

"Slayer, I don't know if I should be surprised you know who Milton Berle is or bloody annoyed that somehow you can confuse him with John Milton; 'To reign is worth ambition' and all."

"Finish the line, Spike," Angel growled, "'To reign is worth ambition though in Hell'. Interesting that you chose 'Paradise Lost', trying to compare yourself to Lucifer?"

"Better than you trying to compare yourself with Michael or Raphael," Spike retorted sharply.